


Forzen Zombie Moments

by CrackheadMossMan



Series: HLVRAI Mermaid AU [2]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware, Half-Life
Genre: Angst, Anyway he’s a Portuguese man o war, Body Horror, More mermaid AU babey!, One Shot, Parasites, This is what happens to Forzen after the OG fic lok, hivemind - Freeform, im not fully sure if this is canon or not yet in the au, maybe? Kind of, or maybe not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25082893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackheadMossMan/pseuds/CrackheadMossMan
Summary: Short drabble about what might happen to Forzen after the OG fanfic. I haven’t decided if this is canon or not in the AU yet, lol. Also if you’re squirmy around parasites and body horror I wouldn’t read this
Series: HLVRAI Mermaid AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815016
Comments: 17
Kudos: 283





	Forzen Zombie Moments

2,000 feet under the ocean’s surface is an abandoned and flooded research base. Many things happened in the base, or even around the base. Some good and some bad. Mostly bad. However, a small distance away from the base, was a wrecked and broken submarine. It nested in the sand, with dents and gashes littered throughout the metal vehicle. The windshield was absolutely shattered, with small shards of glass hidden under the sand it layed in and sometimes just barely poking out. Not too far from the submarine, was a body. A body that was recently dead, and belonged to a human soldier. The corpse was fresh, perfect for the many, many zooids that were attracted to it.

They were tiny creatures, less than 2 inches big, looking similar to a tic tac or smooth caterpillar. They were sirens, but they also weren’t. They were a mock species of both sirens and zooids, driven to the deep where they were not supposed to be and were forced to adapt. They knew nothing but instinct, and to find themselves a host. Preferably freshly dead or dying, and so when a large school of the microorganisms found the dead soldier they were full of joy. It wasn’t easy to find a host, so this was one perfect. So, the thousands of little zooids began the process of the assimilation, which horrified most sirens who knew of the zooids. The soldier was dead, which meant they couldn’t waste time. They couldn’t lose too much. So, they started to quickly eat and nibble at the body. Despite how much skin and “food” there was, it was quickly devoured into nothing but bones by the thousands of zooids in the school. Everything except the brain. 

Because they needed it.

They would give it life, and in return it gave them stability and a strong form. They would give it another chance, give it back it’s consciousness, and they would take care of keeping it alive and stable. Actual sirens would find the process horrifying, but for the zooids it was just instinctive survival. The process was very simple for the mock clone of sirens: eat the body, keep the brain, build back up the body and from, and use the new  _ stable  _ form with the brain to come back to life and let the previously dead consciousness come in control.

Eat, keep, build, and then use. Even if the longer the body was dead, the more was lost.

But it didn’t matter. As long as it was stable, usable, and intelligent it would work. 

Simple. 

𓆝 𓆜 ––––———–––––———–┊⁀➷

When the man (well- not man anymore) awoke, he knew something was off. That something was  _ wrong.  _ He sat up, eyes darting around as he tried to take in his surroundings. None of it seemed familiar. It was dark, yet he could see. After a certain distance, it looked like everything started to get consumed by the darkness. He was in something soft. Something familiar. It felt like he had been in something like it before, but he couldn’t grasp what. There were also rocks, pebbles, and even shiny broken pieces of something he didn’t know. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like being in such a new place, but he couldn’t even figure out what his old place was. In fact, he couldn't remember anything. 

He just woke up and he was here. 

There was no story or anything behind it. 

He was here. 

…

He dragged a hand through the sand, trying to grasp at what happened before, but his mind quickly jumped to another topic at the sight of his hand. It was transparent. He could see through it just barely and see the texture of sand through his hand and arm. That was wrong. He didn’t know what right looked like, but he knew it was  _ wrong _ . He let the sand fall off his see through hand, and stared at his hand even more. 

It was wrong, it was so,  _ so wrong.  _ The tips of his fingers were a dark blue, with his hand and wrist being a dry violet. His forearms blended into a very pale purple, which faded into the rest of his grayish skin. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. He brought his hand closer to his eyes, trying to examine it while racking at his brain to  _ remember  _ what it was supposed to look like. The soldier looked a little closer at his hand, and it looked  _ alive.  _ Very slight and nearly impossible to notice movements, but it was there. He wasn’t alone was he? No. He wasn’t, but at the same time he also was.

…

He didn’t understand any of this, and it was starting to stress him out. Everything was blurry and fuzzy, like his memories were just out of reach and he could his fingertips were softly grazing them but he couldn't grab them. He hated this. He hated it a lot. He wanted to know how he got here and what was happening. He wanted to know who he was, but he wasn’t just one anymore he was more than that. He wanted to be single again. The soldier tried curling up a little to comfort himself, only to be greeted with another pancake on the fucking stack of “this is wrong but I don’t know what right is”. Instead of whatever was supposed to be below his waist, there were now many dark blue tentacles that matched the color of his fingertips. He hated them, they weren’t supposed to be there. The soldier felt his thoughts start to scramble as he rubbed his forehead trying to soothe the spiking head-ache he got. 

There were so many scrambling thoughts going through his head right now, and he just wanted to scream or cry at them. He wasn’t sure if they were his or not. They were his- but they weren’t, he hated how fucking confusing this was. He felt like he was falling apart, like a single thread was holding himself together and the scissors were coming in to cut it. He technically was falling apart, the form of the soldier was becoming far too unstable as he lost control due to the stress. He didn’t  _ want  _ this. He tried to breathe, but it wasn’t what he was used to. He wanted to calm down, but the  _ screaming  _ thoughts of everyone falling apart was too much. He couldn’t remember anything and he wanted to  _ know.  _ He shut his eyes as tight as he could and grabbed his head, like it would silence the thoughts. He dug his transparent fingers into his hair- no they were more squirming tentacles getting more and more loose as the form fell apart. He couldn’t remember anything, he desperately tried searching his memories to think of  _ anything.  _ And then he remembered.

His name was Forzen. 

His name was Forzen, and he liked… two things? He vaguely remembered being obsessed with… beyblades and Irate Gamer. Just thinking about those names made the thoughts slow down a bit and the stress lighten. Even if he had no idea what they exactly were anymore. 

_ “My name is Forzen, and I like beyblades and Irate Gamer?”  _ He mumbled to himself, and shivered at the feeling of himself falling apart. Saying that to himself felt oddly comforting and calming. It… wasn’t much from whatever his past was but it was something. He curled up his tentacles a little more and looked around the area again. There was a skeleton not too far away, and Forzen cringed looking at it. He could feel everybody writhe and squirm a little as he looked at it. Then he saw something off to the side of the skeleton. The writhing within his body stopped as he looked at it. It was a beret, but.. it had a strange amount of comfort towards Forzen. It made him feel safe… and connected. He grabbed the beret, before putting it back on his head. 

“ _ Our  _ name is Forzen… and… and  _ we  _ like beyblades and Irate Gamer,” the man o’ war mumbled to himself (not himself-  _ everybody), _ and the screaming thoughts in his head seemed to become more organized and calm. They were always organized and calm, at first but he didn’t realize it. 

They were his thoughts yet they weren’t. 

They belonged to everyone. 

Forzen watched as the slight movements in his transparent hands completely stilled, completing the illusion of a single organism. 

But Forzen wasn’t singular, he was many. “Team… teamss nice..” he mumbled to himself as he looked from his hands to looking back around him. His tentacles began to curl and tangle in curiosity as he saw something shine for a moment. He took a deep breath, listening to the thoughts of the disguised hivemind, that he was still trying to sync with. 

He didn’t know how to swim, he couldn’t remember.

But…

But  _ we  _ know. 

Forzen slowly and carefully pushed himself off the sand, tentacles easily uncurling and unknotting. He floated above the sand, and started looking around for the shine again. He didn’t move until he saw it, and slowly floated over to it, mostly using the slight push of the current to swim. It was nice and calming. It took a bit of time, but he made it to the shining object and settled in the sand again. His tentacles curled around himself as he carefully picked up the object.

In his hand he held a glass shard, but the scattered and broken mind of Forzen didn’t know that. All he saw was a sharp object that was pretty and reflective. He could see his face. 

His corneas were a very light purple, there were no pupils, and his irises were both violet and that same dark blue. Under his eyes was a pattern of violet that lined his eyes (like eyeliner, but he didn’t know what that was anymore), that spread down his face similar to tear streams and ended with a bolder dot. There were two lines that matched the violet that ran across the bridge of his nose and connected his eyes. It was wrong.

But it was fine.

Because “we’re Forzen, and we like beyblades and Irate Gamer,” he muttered to himself as he looked at the reflective glass. He still wished he remembered what exactly they were, but things were fine. 

He was stable, and things were fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was tired so sorry if there’s mistakes lol  
> Hopefully this makes up for how horribly I treated Forzen in the AU <3


End file.
